Surrogacy
by Kaleidoscopic Panda Bear
Summary: Parental!RoyEd. Mustang believes he would be a bad father figure. Edward and Hughes disagree. "If you wake him up, Hughes, I promise you're dead." "Easy there, Papa Bear," a sly smile worked its way onto his face, "how about I just come back later then?"
1. Chapter 1

"...so cute! look at what my precious little baby made me for father's day, isn't it simply amazing? She'll be turning four this year; I can't believe how fast they grow up! It seems like just yesterday Gracia was pregnant with my adorable little angel- huh? Roy, are you even listening to me?" At the sound of his name, Mustang quickly wiped the irritated look of his face, schooling his features back into his normal dispassionate, yet attentive, expression.

"Of course I'm listening to you, Hughes. 'So cute, Father's Day card, Four years old'. I got it," the Colonel resisted the urge to roll his eyes, instead letting his gaze flicker back over to where the third occupant of the room sat, on the couch, knees pulled up to his chest with a notebook cradled in the gap between his torso and legs. Fullmetal was furiously scribbling away at something he had just written down on the paper.

Mustang had called Ed in to get the boy's report after his return from the latest mission, but instead of immediately storming out after the meeting was finished, the blonde had simply nicked a clean pad of paper off the top of Roy's desk, along with a pen, and had silently curled up on the couch with the items.

The only time Edward had spoken since giving his report had been when Mustang had asked him what he was up to. "Shut it, Sparky," had been the only muttered reply, and even though Roy was beyond curious, and badgering an answer out of Fullmetal was a much better alternative to doing paperwork, the Colonel sighed and had left the teenager alone.

Before Roy could fully submerge himself with his musings on Edward's actions again, Maes' voice demanded his attention once more. "You know, Roy, being a father or even just a father figure is really quite rewarding. You should think about settling down, my friend. I mean, c'mon! None of us are getting any younger here, Mustang. It's now or never, ya'know?" Hughes smiled lopsidedly before bursting into a fit of laughter, but the man's words had had the exact opposite effect on Roy.

The Flame Alchemist scowled behind a gloved hand, brow furrowed. When the laughter finally tapered down into quieter chuckles, he spoke up. "You and I both know that I would be a terrible father, Hughes. I'm at work too much; I'd never be there for the poor bastard, and I'm not about to do that to some kid. And as for a father figure, who would be naïve enough to think of me in that way? Besides, everyone knows I'm more of the 'cool uncle' type." Mustang finished off his mini speech on a lighter tone, waving a hand dismissively as he leaned back in his chair.

Whatever Hughes was going to reply with died on the man's tongue, however, when the sudden and harsh sound of ripping paper and the heavy, uneven stomps of flesh and automail feet broke the silent bubble around the mostly forgotten third party in the room.

Roy barely had time to dodge the notepad that was roughly whipped at his head, but the pen met its intended mark and smacked the Colonel on the forehead. "What the hell, Fullmetal?!" "Prick!" The alchemists yelled at each other in unison. Roy's anger quickly snapped to confusion, but before he could question the blonde, Edward turned on his heel and fled from the office.

Mustang stared after the blonde's retreating figure, rubbing the sore spot on his forehead that the pen-turned-weapon had created. Confusion was still clouding the man's mind when Maes spoke up again. "I wonder what got him so worked up like that all the sudden," green eyes hidden behind wire framed glasses flickered over to the couch that had been previously occupied, and then back to his friend's shrugging form. "I have no idea."

"Well, whatever it was got him so upset that he forgot his coat," Hughes walked over to the couch to retrieve the red cloak, intending to grab it and give it back to it's owner later on. Roy's statement of, "leave it," halted his actions though.

When faced with Hughes' curious gaze, Mustang sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose to try and ward off the beginnings of a headache. "He called me a prick and threw things at me. Now, in my experience with women, those actions coupled together almost always mean I've done or said something wrong and have offended them. So, I'll take Fullmetal's jacket back to him in a little while and apologize while I'm at it. Simple as that."

Hughes dropped the curious facade in favor of a wry smirk. "Alright. Sure, Roy. But just a little heads up for next time; try not to compare your kid to a woman. It's a little weird how fitting it is." And with that, the head of investigations left the Colonel's office to get back to his own work.

It took Mustang another twenty minutes and a good sized portion of his overdue paperwork to realize that Hughes had said, _'your kid'_ and not, _'the kid'_. His headache turned itself into a full blown migraine and the Flame Alchemist allowed himself to slouch over his desk in defeat. It was going to be a long day.


	2. Chapter 2

Warm summer rain fell down from the sky at a steady rate, soaking a certain blonde teen to the bone. It had been so hot and sticky with humidity earlier that when Ed had left the military dorms to go give his report to Mustang, he had forsaken his usual black half-jacket under the red cloak and had just left with his tank top on under it. But now, since he had left the Colonel's office in such an uproar, he had completely forgotten to grab the red garment off the back of the couch.

Edward shot a dirty glare to an MP who was not-so-discretely staring at his automail arm. _'Damn Mustang, why did I even bother,'_ he thought bitterly, _'It was a stupid idea anyway. He would've just made fun of me for it.' _The blonde's frown deepened as he finally reached the front entrance to the dorms. The 'it' he was referring to happened to be the impromptu kind of 'Happy Father's day/thanks for everything' letter he had been writing while perched on Mustang's couch.

Honestly, Edward wasn't really even all that mad at Roy himself, which was kind of shocking. The young alchemist was really just mad at the way Roy had completely -unknowingly- disregarded Edward and his views of the Colonel. Ed knew he wasn't naïve to think of Roy as a father figure, but it hurt to know that the man himself held that very opinion. It's not like the teen was just going to start calling him dad or something; it was more of the, 'I look up to you, you're a good role model,' type of father figure that he had Mustang pegged as in his mind.

Either way, it seemed as if Roy was destined to never know at this point. Edward sighed as he felt his anger dampen down to mild regret and disappointment. As he turned down the hall that would lead him to his and Alphonse's dorm room, Ed withdrew the crumpled and now ruined letter from where he had stuffed it into his back pocket and tossed it into the wastebasket that was sitting there at the end of the hall. There was no use in keeping the paper now anyways.

Almost as soon as the blonde was across the threshold of the dorm room, his brother was upon him with questions and a concern for his current physical state. "Brother, you're soaking wet! Come on, you have to change out of those clothes before you catch a cold," the suit of armor had already tugged the resisting fabric of the black tank top up and over Edward's head before the elder brother could protest.

Now standing shirtless, Ed managed to sputter out a quick, "AL!" before snatching the garment back from his brother. "Huh? Brother, what's wrong?" Ed just shook his head, wringing his top out right there in front of his feet. Alphonse said nothing about the growing wet spot on the carpet, waiting for a verbal response. "Nothing's wrong, Al. Just frustrated, I guess," the words were accompanied by Ed shaking out his tank top, the fabric now horribly wrinkled.

He tossed it aside to the corner with the rest of his dirty clothes and heaved another sigh, but made no move to get a different shirt from the dresser. Instead, he pulled his sopping braid over his left shoulder and tugged the hairband out of it. Deft fingers, flesh and metal alike, made quick work of getting the braid undone. Walking into the tiny excuse of a bathroom, Ed grabbed a towel from off the rack and began to dry his hair.

"Well, brother, do you want dry clothes or not?" Al called from the other room. Ed could hear the clinking of the armor as Alphonse moved about the area. Probably tidying up or something else like that. "Nah, it wouldn't make much sense to get another outfit wet besides this one," he called back, tossing the towel down on the counter to re-braid his hair. Al came to stand in the bathroom doorway.

"You're going back out there?" Glowing red orbs narrowed it what was probably supposed to be confusion. "Yeah, and you're gonna come with me. It's been a while since we've sparred together, and I could use some venting right about now," the teen casually flicked the now finished braid back over his shoulder, turning to face his brother. "Uh- um, well, alright," Al stuttered out, moving out of the bathroom doorway. Ed immediately headed for the hallway, not waiting to see if Alphonse was following him or not.

"Oh, w-wait, brother! You still need a shirt, and what about the rain!" The suit of armor had one foot in the threshold of their room, holding the door open and staring at the still naked back of his older brother retreating down the hallway.

"I don't need a shirt if we're just gonna be sparring. And besides, the rain is warm. You won't melt."

Alphonse heaved an aggravated sigh, growling out Ed's name as he abandoned his post in the doorway to catch up to his brother. "I wasn't worried about myself, brother. You're so stubborn sometimes, you know that?"

Ed flashed a brilliant smile at his brother. "Yeah, I know. But you still love me." Alphonse didn't say anything back to that, opting instead to shove Edward forward a bit. The blonde stumbled but continued in his good natured teasing. "Hey, no starting the fight early! I don't need Colonel Bastard crawling up my ass for property damage, ya hear me?"


	3. Chapter 3

Mustang yawned and leaned away from his desk, stretching and wincing as his back cracked. He was finally done with all his paperwork, and Hawkeye hadn't even had to threaten him with the wrong end of one of her guns to make him work on it. Roy glanced up and over to the clock that was hanging on the far wall, but before he could read the time, a blob of red snatched his attention away.

Edward's coat was still laying abandoned on his leather couch. Standing up, Roy stretched again and made his way over to the piece of furniture. He plucked the red fabric from its resting place, shaking it out and refolding it neatly to lay across his arm. Now that he was done with all his paperwork, the Flame alchemist could finally slip out of his office for a break and go return it to the teenager without having to worry about Hawkeye chewing him out on his return.

Before Mustang could make it to the door, however, it was thrown open from the other side. It took him mere seconds to formulate a greeting for the new arrival standing in the doorway. "Ah, Fullmetal. For once, your _short_ notice on barging into my office is welcomed. I was just about to come looking for you," the ebony haired man raised the arm that the red cloak was draped across as explanation.

For the most part, Edward ignored the implied blow to his height in favor of scowling, yanking his jacket off of Roy's arm and whisking it back towards the couch. Roy watched the fabric flutter down to drape back over the arm of the leather loveseat with narrowed eyes. He turned his gaze back onto the blonde teen, but his biting remark never made it past his lips.

"Fullmetal, what happened?" Gloved fingers cupped and tilted Edward's chin upwards and to the right, fully exposing the shallow but still bleeding cut there. It was just under the teen's eye, and Roy traced his thumb over it, wiping the blood away, the white material of his ignition glove becoming stained red with the liquid. Ed allowed Roy to inspect the oozing wound for a few more seconds before smirking slightly and knocking the man's hand away. He wiped at his face himself before speaking.

"You're just proving my point right now, ya'know." Roy gave him a curious glance, moving back towards his desk to rifle through one of the drawers. "And what point might that be?" Finding what he was looking for, the man withdrew his hand from the desk drawer and made his way back over to the teenager.

"...nothing," Edward muttered, watching as the Colonel peeled the back of the adhesive, rectangular shaped bandage off and approached the blonde with it in hand. Angling Edward's face up again, he brushed the teen's bangs back and out of the way before placing the bandage over the cut. Ed didn't resist the attentive actions, but a tinge of pink dusted over his cheeks in his embarrassment.

Roy, satisfied with his handiwork, turned back to his desk and sat down in the chair. Edward took the opportunity to walk up to the desk and maneuver the same notepad that he had previously flung at Mustang's head back in front of the man. He tossed a pen at Roy for the second time that day, also, but this time, the Flame alchemist caught it.

"What's this?" As a force of habit, Roy scribbled the date onto the top of the paper. "I want you to make a list of things that you know about me. And they have to be personal things, you can't just make it obvious stuff like blonde hair, automail limbs, crap like that." Golden orbs stared down and challenged onyx ones, and finally, Roy gave in. "Fine, I'll humor you this time, Fullmetal."

Except, once Mustang began, he found that he couldn't necessarily stop. The man had never realized how much information he had observed about the teen standing restlessly in front of him. Only when the Colonel tore the first page out of the notepad and went to start on the next one did Edward still his hand by plucking the pen out of his fingertips. Roy glanced questioningly at the teen, wondering why the boy had stopped him, but the younger alchemist wasn't paying him any mind.

"See? That's a full list, front and back, of things probably no one else knows about me, and you were all ready to keep going onto the next page." Ed's eyes flitted down the paper, scanning over what Roy had written down. "Hell, my own brother doesn't even know about some of these things." Roy narrowed his eyes, not sure if the last statement was supposed to be a compliment or an accusation. "Your point, Fullmetal?"

"My point, Mustang, is that you do make a good father figure, whether you like it or not."

Roy simply stared at him, so Edward blew threw a quick explanation.

"You put down stuff like, 'doesn't like automail being exposed', 'avoids hometown at all costs', 'can't swim', 'allergic to cinnamon and peanuts', and a bunch of other stuff that I've never once mentioned to you. And I know that my allergies aren't listed in my state medical file, because I technically sorta lied to the medical examiner and told him I had none, so you didn't get that information from anywhere."

When the older man still didn't say anything, the teen let loose an aggravated sigh. Ed was all ready to start another rant when Mustang dropped his face into a gloved hand and started laughing quietly to himself. Crossing his arms and scowling, a light blush covering his face again, the blonde waited for the man's response.

"You make no sense sometimes, Edward." Still chuckling, Roy leaned back in his chair and pointed a inscrutable grin towards the other male. Edward, more than a little miffed at this point, flung his arms into the air and growled out his frustrations. "Damnit, Colonel Bastard! Do I have to spell it out for you?!"

Before he could really start yelling though, Mustang shook his head, a smile still on his face. "No. I understand what you're getting at, Ed. And to say the least, I'm flattered that you'd see me in such a way. And while we're on the topic, please allow me to apologize for my careless words earlier. I'm assuming that it was something I said that upset you?"

It wasn't quite a question, but Edward was still taken aback by the notion of the apology. He rested his metal hand on the desktop with a dull thud, his flesh arm falling back down to his side. The false fingers tapped out a quiet beat as the teen tried to get his thoughts together. "Y-yeah. I guess it was. And, uh...I mean, sorry for throwing things at you earlier, too."

The end of the sentence was mumbled horribly, but Mustang caught the gist of it. Watching as Edward brought his metal hand up to his mouth to cover a yawn, his attention was once again brought back to the cut on the teenager's cheek that he had bandaged up. "You never did answer my question, Fullmetal."

Ed opened his eyes again and furrowed his brow, not realizing what Roy was referring to.

"What question?"

"What happened to your face?"

"Oh, yeah. That. Al and I were sparring and he got a lucky hit in is all. One of the spikes on his armor must've just cut into me." Another yawn was stifled behind his metal hand.

Nodding at the explanation, Roy picked the previously abandoned pen back up and began to doodle on the blank paper in front of him. "You know, it's still raining outside, Ed. If you want to crash on the couch and take a nap instead of walking back to the dorms, it'd be fine by me."

A hesitant, "Alright," was all he got in response before Edward made his way over to the couch and curled up on it, back towards the rest of the room. Sometime later, Roy glanced up from his doodles to look at the clock. He still had almost two hours till he could go home. His gaze flickered down to Ed's form when the teenager shifted slightly, crossing his ankles more and pulling his knees up closer to his chest.

_'Probably cold,' _Roy mused. Seeing as Ed had chosen to lay on top of his coat instead of putting it back on, the teen was still only in a tank top. Pushing his chair back away from his desk and standing up, Mustang quietly made his way over to the sleeping form. He stripped his own military jacket off, draping it over the teen's bare shoulders. Before walking back to his desk, however, Roy let a small smile overtake his features. He brushed a bit of the boy's bangs out of his face again, murmuring a soft, "Sleep well, kiddo," as he turned to leave.

When Edward was sure that Roy could no longer see his face, he opened his eyes and bit down on his lip, not quite understanding why his eyes were beginning to water in response to the man's action and words. Instead of dwelling on his own rather interesting emotional reaction, Ed simply took a deep breath in and reveled in Roy's scent. Smoke, aftershave, a hint of charcoal, and something else that was completely Roy all on its own. It was comforting to the teenager, and with the mixture surrounding him, he fell asleep much quicker than he normally would've.

With a little less than forty five minutes left until Roy needed to wake Edward and head home, Maes dropped into his office again. The man's noisy entrance was quickly shut down, however, when he took in the scene before him. A certain blond haired teen was curled up on Roy's couch, snoring lightly and mumbling incoherently every now and then.

Roy's military jacket was still acting as a blanket for the boy, and sure enough, when Maes glanced up to his friend, he was met with the image of Mustang in his white uniform button down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, fingers poised to snap, and murder in his obsidian eyes.

"If you wake him up, Hughes, I promise you're dead."

The head of investigations simply put his hands up in surrender. When he spoke this time, his voice was hardly above a whisper. "Easy there, Papa Bear," a sly smile worked its way onto his face and delight made his emerald eyes dance as he eased his way back out of the office. "How about I just come back later?"


End file.
